


Two Dragons: A Second Chance

by LAGRIENZO



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dragons, Emotional pain, Fantasy, Groundhog Day, Honor, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Overwatch - Freeform, Redemption, Regret, Shipping, Supernatural Elements, desperate hanzo, hanzo wants it badly, happiness has a price, it ends happy, mccree gives hanzo strength, mccree is handsome, no one is safe, people might die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LAGRIENZO/pseuds/LAGRIENZO
Summary: Hanzo is given a second chance with McCree, and he is not one to waste his second chances. [One Shot]





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Overwatch fanfiction! I love McHanzo stuff so much I wanted to contribute, but I am not a strong fluff writer, so this is way out of my element.
> 
> Please note that most of this is a rough draft. Excuse some of the minor errors, please!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Please leave a comment at the end! I really appreciate any form of feedback!

Hanzo did not want to believe what just happened. It was too surreal. A pang of cold dread penetrates him, and the fear rejuvenates his body, propelling him forward.

“MCCREE!” Never has Hanzo felt so desperate in all of his life. He did not care that leaving his post would cause alarm to their enemies (“Hanzo, there’s nothing you can do. You have to stay put. Are you listening to me? Hanzo? Han! Zo!”), all that mattered to him was the motionless McCree that lied on the ground; he had to get him out of there.

When Hanzo got to McCree’s side, his own body became paralyzed with what he saw. Blood was everywhere—all over McCree and the road he lied on. Getting shot ten times could do that to a man. But never did Hanzo suspect that McCree would be dead from it. No, Hanzo knew McCree was dead the moment the bullets made contact, but had clung on to hope. McCree has been through worse before. McCree was a big man, strong. It would take more than ten bullets to kill him, Hanzo had reasoned.

McCree’s hands were cold.

His heart did not beat.

Hanzo let out a scream. This couldn’t be happening. And then, bitterly, he thought, _I love this man._

It was easier to admit that part, now that McCree was dead, easy to admit to himself that he had loved the man. Up until now, Hanzo had denied these feelings. As the last surviving Shimada (in Hanzo’s mind, Genji no longer qualified), it was his duty to pass on the Shimada name, and living the life of a gay man would compromise this duty. He could not accept that he had these desires with another man. These desires were always followed with a sense of guilt and shame. It was wrong and unbecoming of a Shimada to feel that way.

Looking at McCree’s lifeless body, Hanzo realizes how much of a fool he had been. Now, Hanzo just wishes he had been able to confess his feelings to McCree, wishes he had come to terms with who he was.

“Hanzo, you need to get out of there.” Solider 76 was still talking in his comm. “You’re going to compromise the mission.”

Hanzo could not believe the man could only think about the _mission_ in a time like this. He had escorted a million payloads in his time with Overwatch, surely the payload they were transporting now could wait.

Hanzo screamed again. Tears, something the man hadn’t felt in years, were streaming freely from his face. A tornado of ambivalence struck him, a whirlwind of sadness, grief, anger, animosity, and regret all at once.

He clenched his hands into a fist. _If only I could have protected him…_

One moment, Hanzo was alone, and the next moment, the emotions manifested into something much more; his tattoo glowed, and Hanzo found himself surrounded by two familiar spirit dragons.

Hanzo did not know why the Dragons choose to honor him with their presence in his darkest hour, but he did nothing to stop it. He was frozen into place. All he could do was mourn for his loss.

But it seemed the dragons had a plan of their own. They wrapped themselves around Hanzo, and suddenly everything began spinning and spinning and spinning.

Hanzo could hear the Dragons speaking to him.

 _“With every death comes honor,”_ it rasped, “ _and with honor… redemption.”_

Everything turned into a hazy blue, and then, nothing.

 

o-o-o

 

“Howdy, partner.” Hanzo blinked. Just moments ago, McCree was lying dead, and now here he was, sitting beside him at Overwatch HQ, a cup of coffee in hand.

_With every death comes honor, and with honor… redemption._

And then it clicked. Just like everything in Hanzo’s life: at first slow, and then, fast. It suddenly all came together. _The Dragons were offering him a second chance._

“Somethin’ the matter, Shimada-san? You ain’t said a thing all mornin’.”

Hanzo opened his mouth to tell him the truth: _you are in danger, I have seen the future, you will die, you must go!_ But then he stopped himself. He did not think anyone would take him seriously if he said such things. Supernatural phenomena such as this do not occur often, and it is only through his Dragons that he has been blessed enough to experience one.

Hanzo takes a moment to take McCree in. He is big, much taller than himself. He wore his signature cowboy hat, boots, and BAMF belt. A red serape is tied snugly around his neck, his peacekeeper revolver hoisted on his right side. His facial hair is unshaved and wild, giving him a rugged, wild appearance.

By the Dragons if McCree wasn’t the most handsome creature Hanzo had ever seen. His desires came rushing in; to kiss him, to breath in his smoky and alcoholic aroma, to squeeze him close and drag him to his bedroom.

These things were soon followed by a familiar sense of guilt, but he quickly cast all these things aside. His romantic feelings for McCree were irrelevant right now. The only thing that mattered was keeping him _alive_ , to prevent his tragic death from happening again.

Hanzo was determined to make this second chance count.

_I must keep him alive at all costs._

Hanzo did not know how to handle the situation. He needed to convince McCree to abandon this mission, but he had to do it without seeming suspicious. Hanzo did not wish to temp the powers of the Dragons by acting out of place, nor did he think that it would work anyway.

When Hanzo finally spoke, he chose his words carefully. “It is as you say, something is the matter. I do not think it is wise for you to accompany us on this mission.

McCree laughs. It is deep and vibrant and sends shivers down Hanzo’s spine. “Well ain’t that somethin’!” He took a sip of his coffee. “Are ya worried about me? Cuz I’ve completed missions meaner n’ this.”

“Your well-being is not my concern!” Hanzo says sharply. He forces a stern expression, trying not to let his face betray his lie. “You are a Blackwatch member at heart. Group missions do not suit you.”

“You sure know how to break a man’s heart, darlin’.” McCree tips his hat to him and grins. And then, McCree locks eyes with Hanzo. Hanzo shifts uncomfortably. It is as if McCree can see past Hanzo’s lie and right into his soul. “Besides, the payload we’re movin’ is on Route 66. Ain’t nobody know that place better than I do.”

A flash of McCree’s bloody metal fingers was all it took to get Hanzo frustrated and desperate all at once, but it suddenly ebbed away. Hanzo was good at that; silencing his emotions for a cool and calm approach had always come naturally to him. It was times like this when the skill was most useful; he had to think, had to concentrate, had to think of a _plan_ , and he could not let his emotions compromise him from that plan.

“Your presence will only hinder us on our mission. Those who do not work well with others are best to work alone.”

McCree was not easily deterred. “Couldn’t the same be said about you?”

Hanzo gave him a death glare. “You are a fool! We are nothing alike!”

“Hey there, partner, take it easy.” McCree put his hands up in mock-surrender. “I don’t make the rules ‘round here. Soldier’s the one who told me to come anyways. I’m just doin’ my job.”

Hanzo took a deep breath. Defeat. He had learned to accept failures as they came—acceptance was the first step in moving forward, and with such delicate plans such as this, one cannot afford to get stuck behind fighting battles they cannot win. They must continue moving forward, they must achieve their goal with a different plan.

“I must apologize, cowboy.” Hanzo gave him a little bow. “I did not get much sleep this morning.”

McCree put an arm around Hanzo and laughed again. _Several_ shivers went down his spine this time—his heart was certainly beating faster. “S’ ok. I could tell yous havin’ a bad morning. Here, how ‘bout I make you a cup o coffee? Always gets me up in the mornin’.”

Hanzo looked away and began twirling his hair with his fingers. He had to think of something else, something else, _something else_.

“A cup of coffee would not be unwelcomed. Thank you.

 

o-o-o-

 

Hanzo made his way around Overwatch headquarters to Soldier 76’s office. He might not have been able to convince McCree to abort his mission, but perhaps he could convince it of Soldier 76 instead.

Hanzo tried to think of all the things he could remember about the man: his name was officially Jack Morrison, the old leader of Overwatch. He was presumed to be dead when their headquarters was blown up, but he had somehow managed to survive and continued living life as a vigilante. When Winston called the Overwatch agents back into business, Soldier was one of the last people to heed the call. From what Hanzo was told, Soldier 76 thought it was best if Overwatch stayed disbanded, especially after its activities were deemed illegal. He had given up his leadership position to Winston, but he still operated and moderated a lot of Overwatch’s activities. It seemed to Hanzo that old habits died hard, that Jack Morrison could never stop supporting Overwatch. It was what he lived and breathed.

Hanzo frowned. None of this was useful. None of this was going to help him convince Soldier 76 that McCree needed to be stationed somewhere else.

He let out a sigh. If he could convince Soldier 76 of this right now, it would make his life easier. It would guarantee that McCree would be safe

But he had to be prepare himself for defeat. If he could not convince Soldier 76 to keep McCree here, Hanzo would just have to protect McCree himself.

Hanzo knocked on the door until Soldier 76 answered.

“Oh. Hanzo. Please, come in.”

It was a typical office. A desk with a monitor, chairs in front of the desk, file cabinets on the side. Blue carpet, red walls, yet oddly small for someone of Soldier 76’s status.

Soldier 76 cleared his voice. “We have a lot of preparations to do before our mission, so speak quickly.”

“I do not think it is wise for McCree to join us on this mission.”

Soldier raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“He is not good on group missions. I have seen it for myself. Disobeys orders, gets the team into trouble, does not communicate. I beg you to reconsider another agent for the job.”

“I understand your concern, Hanzo.” Hanzo could feel the weight lifting off his shoulders. “But McCree is the only agent who has the field experience on Route 66 required to navigate the payload.”

And just like that, the weight is back and feels _crushing_.

Hanzo sneered. “It does not matter if he can navigate the payload if he does not work with us as a team. We are destined to fail.”

“All other agents are occupied with other missions. We do not have the manpower to replace McCree.” Soldier 76 let out an audible sigh. “McCree has worked well with others in the past. We must give him a chance. Now, if you will excuse me, I have preparations to make. I suggest you get moving.”

Hanzo could only bow. “It is as you say.”

 

o-o-o

Hanzo wanted to strangle Soldier 76. It infuriated Hanzo that he could not accomplish two simple tasks. Twice he had been defeated.

But it is as he said: he would not waste this second chance.

The team—which had consisted of Soldier 76, McCree, Tracer, Torbjorn, Mei, and himself had flown in to Route 66 and were moving the payload. Or, more specifically, McCree and Mei were moving the payload. But Hanzo wasn’t letting his eyes off McCree for even a second.

That was the mistake he made last time. He was so focused on the mission and the field presence as a whole, that he had somehow missed the man who shot McCree.

It was foolish.

It would not happen again.

This time around, there was not much opposition. McCree and Mei were handling the front line shooters quite well—not that they really had to, though. Hanzo was sniping everything in his sights. So far, he counted fifty two gunmen, thirteen omnics, all mercilessly and silently sniped.

_With every death comes honor, and with honor… redemption._

Torbjorn had set up his turrets all around the perimeter, ensuring the payload would have a secure path ahead. Soldier and Tracer were scouting ahead.

Everything was going smoothly.

And then, suddenly, a horrible scream permeates the air. At first, Hanzo panics, whips out his bow and scouts for enemies. And then he realized: that scream didn’t come from McCree.

It came from Tracer.

“I’m surrounded! I need backup!” Hanzo’s comm is static with Tracer’s frantic screaming.

“Don’t worry Tracer, I am on my way!” The voice belongs to Mei. “Just hang on a little longer.”

“Hanzo!” Soldier 76 is now in comm. “I am moving towards Mei’s location. Watch my back and follow.”

Hanzo was close to Tracer’s location, he knew. But Mei had just left McCree by himself on the payload. _Go! Help Tracer! Before she is dead!_

But suddenly the thoughts fade away. Hanzo was good at that; silencing his emotions for a cool and calm approach had always come naturally to him. It was times like this when the skill was most useful; he had to think, had to concentrate, had to think of a plan, and he could not let his emotions compromise him from that plan.

_I must keep McCree alive at all costs._

That is the mission. That is the plan. He cannot allow his emotions to derail that plan.

Besides, Tracer would survive. Hanzo had moved to her location last time and it was then that McCree had been shot. Shot when he away. A mistake.

Hanzo bared his teeth. He would not make the same mistake again.

Soldier 76 and Mei get to Tracer’s location. Hanzo can hear the gun shots in the distance, but makes no move towards them. Rather, he follows McCree closely.

And in that moment, a man is behind the payload, behind McCree. He was all stealth—hiding behind pillars, abandoned gas stations, climbing on roof tops—at least, he must have been, because it seemed like he swooped down from nowhere.

Hanzo instantly recognizes the man. Black hair, green eyes, two guns hoisted on his belt, dark cameo sweater.

It is the same man that killed McCree before.

Hanzo doesn’t hesitate.

He fires his arrow with all of his heart.

The man is dead before he even hits the ground.

McCree turns around in surprise, and then on comm—“Damn. Yer pretty handy with that bow.”

Hanzo can feel the entire weight of the world coming off his shoulders. _He did it!_ McCree was alive— _is alive!_ —and suddenly he is laughing hysterically, full of joy. “It is nothing, cowboy. Secure the payload. We must see it to its destination.”

From a distance, Hanzo can see McCree give him a thumbs up.

The moment is then ruined when another scream penetrates the air. The scream is followed by a voice and it takes Hanzo to register that its Mei speaking: “TRACER!”

Hanzo can hear his comm coming to life and suddenly Soldier is barking orders. “Mei, there is nothing you can do. You have to stay put. Are you listening to me? Mei? M-E-I!

You need to get out of there! You’re going to compromise the mission!”

o-o-o

Tracer was killed on their mission. The payload was shipped safely to its destination, although not much celebration could be made. Tracer was the very life of the Overwatch itself. Her bubbly and attractive personality put a smile on everyone’s faces and kept them going each morning, kept them _believing._ The world could always use more heroes, but Hanzo doubted there was anyone in the whole world who could replace Lena.

Hanzo blamed himself. First he killed his own brother, and now he has caused the death of Tracer.

The pity of the others made it worse. No one blamed him at all for Tracer’s death.  No one knew. Not even Soldier got mad at Hanzo for disobeying his orders—“You guarded the payload and saw the mission through. Lena would have been proud.”

Each time Hanzo looked at McCree, he would get butterflies in his stomach. Still the most handsome creature he had ever seen in his life. The desires would make him crazy. He wanted to badly to confess himself to McCree, to kiss him, to squeeze him closer to himself, to seek the warmth of his bed.

But Hanzo could no longer push away his guilt. It did not matter if he accepted his homosexual feelings. Hanzo’s guilt was too deeply rooted in other things to be cast away so easily.

He did not deserve to feel love at all.

One day, he wanted to tell McCree everything—his feelings for him, the weight of Lena and Genji on his shoulders, and the atrocities of the Shimada clan.

When Hanzo closes his eyes, he can still see the Dragons swirling around him, still hear their voices inside of his head.

_With every death comes honor, and with honor… redemption_

o-o-o

It had been a couple of months since Tracer was murdered. There was a funeral, and Hanzo made himself go. It was his duty to honor those he had a hand in killing.

By some miracle, every Overwatch agent had made it. They took comfort in one another’s grief, but Hanzo could not share it with them. McCree tried to cheer him up—“Howdy partner. Reckon you hurtin’ real bad, blamin’ yourself for Lena’s death, but we was all there. None of us was able to stop it. Lena’s a good soul, ain’t got a bad bone in her body, ain’t no way she blame you for anythin’.”—but it was not enough.

The next day, Hanzo left Overwatch.

It was difficult being surrounded by people he didn’t deserve, people who didn’t understand him, people who didn’t _know_.

And then there was McCree, the regret he would forever hold in his heart. It was Hanzo’s burden, his duty, and he was never one to pass off his duty.

Hanzo was back at Hanamura, back at home. He was paying his respects to Genji—but this time, he was burning extra incenses for Lena.

Hanzo took the time to indulge in his memories. Both the good ones, and the bad ones. Flashes of Genji in his youth, swinging his sword for the first time. The cries of aguish as Hanzo destroyed Genji with the help of his spirit dragons. Lena’s optimistic quotes—“Cheers luv, the calvaries here!”—“The world could always use some more heroes!”—and her bubbly, contagious laughter. ‘

It isn’t long before his thoughts turn to McCree. His alluring cigar smoke, the alcohol on his breath, the rugged look of his face, the sound of his deep, soothing voice, the way it would all compel Hanzo to gravitate towards him. He remembers the southern accent, the way he’d always playfully flirt.

It’s the footsteps that break the train of Hanzo’s thoughts.

Hanzo expected it this. He realized he had left Overwatch without giving anyone notice, that someone was bound to come after him, to try and bring him back.

Hanzo expected Genji to come looking for him here again.

When Hanzo turned around, he saw something he didn’t expect at all.

“Howdy.”

_Jesse McCree?_

Hanzo scrunches his eyebrows together and frowns. “What are you doing in my home?”

He could ask a million more questions— _How did you know I would be here? Who sent you? Of all people it had to be you?_ —but they’re irrelevant right now, meaningless.

“Ain’t it obvious?” McCree grins—an action that has Hanzo paralyzed. “I’m takin’ you back.”

“You are a fool!” Hanzo sneered. “What makes you think I want to go back?”

“Hanzo, listen…” McCree has taken off his hat, holding between his hands, locked eyes with Hanzo. The use of his name has Hanzo shaken. McCree has never called Hanzo anything else but _Shimada-san_ before. “I don’t know why you left us, but it ain’t the same without you. Can’t we talk about this?”

Hanzo broke eye contact. “What is there to talk about?”

“How ‘bout we start with you leavin’ Overwatch? You didn’t tell us nothin’!”

“I did not have a choice!” And then, quietly. “You would not understand.”

“There’s somethin’ you ain’t tellin’ me.” McCree walked closer to Hanzo. “Please, darlin’, tell me. Make me understand.”

“If I told you, you would not believe me.”

“I reckon I would.”

Hanzo took a deep breath. He wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything.

“I am the one responsible for Tracer’s death.”

McCree shifted his hat back on his head. “Now ain’t we talk about this before?—”

“Shut up and listen!” Surprisingly, McCree shut up. Hanzo continued, continued before he lost his nerve. He explained how his Dragons gave him a second chance, how he had seen McCree die, how he had chosen to save him over Tracer. He told him everything except his feelings. He wasn’t ready for that, not yet.

“So, let me get this straight.” Hanzo nodded. “You says you saw me die, that those Dragons of yours gave you some redo, and through that Tracer died instead?” Hanzo nodded again, sagely. “Well that’s hogwash!”

Hanzo was furious. “You do not believe me!”

“That ain’t what I said!” McCree’s eyes hardened. “I’m sayin’ it’s hogwash if you think Lena died cuz of you! You didn’t pull the trigger, you didn’t see her die, you couldn’t possibly have stopped it.”

“You do not understand how the dragons work!” Hanzo was angry and sad and tired all at once. He didn’t like yelling at McCree, but he felt that he must. “I do not regret the choice I made, but I must live with its consequences.”

It was then McCree blurted, “Why me?”

“Because—“ Hanzo hesitated. He wanted to tell him. _He didn’t want to tell him_. But more importantly: _he had to tell him_. He owed it to Overwatch, and by extension McCree, for leaving them without notice. “because I—because I love you.”

Whatever McCree was expecting, it wasn’t that. His eyes widened. “Run me by that again?”

“I love you. I have always loved you, cowboy. It is why… I could not let you die.” Hanzo turned away from McCree. _He done it!_ It both made him exhilarated and afraid all at once. He had to turn away. He wanted to cling on to the hope that McCree shared those feelings with him.

 _I am a fool!_ Hanzo thought to himself. _He does not reciprocate my feelings for him! I should have kept my mouth shut!_

But Hanzo could not take the words back. All he could do was stand there in silence. By the Dragons, McCree was awfully silent. Hanzo half hoped to hear his rejection, if only to remove the anticipation in his heart.

McCree’s arms wrap themselves around Hanzo. Hanzo stiffens at first, shocked, but then relaxes, fitting perfectly in his embrace.  McCree whispers in his ear, “Sweetheart you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

Hanzo feels warm and fuzzy inside, but his mind steadies itself, trying to ease himself into a cool and collected calmness. “I do not deserve your affection.”

“Yer the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Hanzo blushes. “I am not worthy.”

McCree pulls Hanzo closer to himself. “Every dog’s got a few fleas, Hanzo. Heck, I’ve done plenty mean things back in my days.” McCree plants a kiss on Hanzo’s neck. “Lena would want you to be happy.”

Hanzo didn’t know what he should do. His emotions were all over the place. But this time, he isn’t able to ebbs his emotions away into nothing. It is McCree who does that for him. He doesn’t know if he deserves redemption, doesn’t know if he deserves McCree or even Overwatch.

All Hanzo knows is that McCree’s arms are around him, and there is not a thing in this world that could take him away from them.

**Author's Note:**

> AahaaaaAHHHHH!
> 
> Thank you for reading this with me! I have a twitter (https://twitter.com/RIENZOLAG) if you're interested and a fanfiction (https://www.fanfiction.net/u/3935213/).


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